Chapter Text
You burned for her, the ache physical and allowing you no peace.She was well aware. Slowly unraveling you was immensely enjoyable. In reality she was testing you, curious to see how far she could push you before you snapped. Broke the rules, made a move. If you didn't that would truly be a pity, but the Lady didn't find that concerning. She was an excellent judge of character, of your character. Smugly knowing she wouldn't have to wait long.
Your first week in the castle, she ignored you completely. By the second she was antagonistic beyond words. Poking at your insecurities, eyes dangerously aglow daring you to step out of line. Hoping you'd be stupid enough to take the bait, react. That would have been such fun.
To everyone's dismay you in fact, were not that stupid. By the third week, you wished you would have been. Her hands on you in rage, in punishment would have been better than this methodical torture. Upon entering a room she happened to be occupying (purposefully or not), you could feel her gaze raking lasciviously along your body. Plainly, she was eye fucking you. You felt brave once and caught that gaze whilst she was toying with you, and her pupils were blown wide as she languidly puffed away at one of her indescribably exotic cigarettes. Flustered you stormed out of the room in a hurry. You heard her rich, sultry laugh following you as you made your escape down the hallway.
Finally, finally you had reached your limit. Nerve endings coiled and screaming. You decided to confront your Lady. Knowing she wouldn't deny you a conversation, if only because she loved to hear herself speak.
A great orator...gods, that mouth.
Go, find her and stop this madness...this delicious madness.
You need help.
So you waited until after dinner that very evening to find her relaxing in her usual spot, the library. Neutral enough, if the entire opulent fucking castle wasn't hers. The entire castle and all of its contents, which absolutely extended to you. You silly she-wolf. She owned your ass, and had absolutely no qualms whatsoever of reminding you of that at every possible opportunity.
Aaargh, enough!
You burst into the room with much more dramatic agitation than intended. Your own eyes blazing, looking more unhinged than you would ever like to admit. Her gaze drifted over to you, steaming in the middle of the grand room. She beamed at you, setting her book down beside her. “Well, Mateja, to what do I owe the...” You cut her off.
"Stop.” Her eyes narrowed, you have completely forgotten yourself. Leaning back, she allowed you to continue curious to see how deep a hole you were prepared to dig yourself into. Her eyes danced with something you weren't sure was amusement or malicious plotting. Perhaps both…..no, certainly both.
Taking a deep breath, and running your hand through your hair you charged down this ill rehearsed path.
Who are you kidding it wasn't rehearsed at all.
"My Lady,” (remembering yourself for just a moment) “what do you want from me? These games…,” stammering, “I don't, I can't..”. Trailing off you just stood there, blood thundering in your ears, breathing uneven. Uneven breath that all together ceased, as she silently stood crossing the room to stand in front of you. Her eyes locked on yours, you had to look up to maintain eye contact.
You both just stood there, she was still waiting, while you short circuited like an idiot. This close you could feel her breath, even, gentle on your face. She looked so very pleased. Slowly, dimly dots began connecting in your addled head. At long last you understood with blossoming clarity that she wanted you to make a move, pushing you in that direction, and was ultimately waiting for you.
What a benevolent goddess you have found yourself chained to.
You smirked. Eyes flashing with empowered realization, moving forward judging that the rules of this game were still applicable. Each step forward from you was met with a step back from her. Until you both ran out of floor, and her back found the dark wood of the far wall.
Placing a hand on the wall, you leaned close, your breath tickling the shell of her ear. Her perfume a delirium, “Tell me,” you husked “what you want."
You thought you were doing such a good job.
Before you fully registered the motion, your Lady had spun you around pinning you to that very same wall, her gloved hand on your throat. Applying a modicum of pressure, the leather soft and cool against your hammering pulse. It was she who was the one smirking now, “Your submission.” Stated like it was the most obvious thing in the universe...which it was, to everyone except yourself.
Disregarding your death wish you simultaneously pressed your throat forward into her practiced grip, while quickly grabbing and flinging that stupid fucking hat across the library. She was stunned momentarily, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Make me." you growl before crashing your lips into hers. The world exploded, her lips parted for you, tongues battling. You poured every ounce of your desire into the kiss and she drank you in, swallowing your moans and tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth. The hand that had been at your throat grasped your ponytail and tugged hard, pulling your head back, knocking it into the wall.
"Such insolence, pet. Whatever shall I do with you?” Her grin was all fang. She in no way was going to make this easy for you. You were certain she'd have no problem spending the next half century pinning you here, waiting for you to answer her. She tugged at your hair once more, reminding you that she was not speaking in the rhetorical.
You hissed, “Hurt me, fuck me, bite me...anything...everything.” You voice sodden with desire, for good measure you tacked a quiet, “please.” at the end of that declaration.
"What was that?”, her question dripped with syrupy venom. You grunted, closing your eyes.
Fuck, this woman.
She wasn't letting this go, another tug followed by another thud. Your eyes flew open, sanity snapped. “Please!”, chest heaving in the silence following your yielding. The blown amber rings of her irises shimmered, and with a deep rumbling moan her lips were back on yours. Searching, claiming, victoriously exploiting your submission.
The hand that wasn't still gripping your hair was raking trails down your overheated skin. She'd removed her gloves, you don't know when, but you were grateful for it. She was impossibly soft and cool, the sensory juxtaposition confusing to your synapses. She had a hand underneath your shirt, you could feel the welts rising along your abdomen from her manicured nails. Changing course she palmed your breast; her lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking. No tug required, you thudded your head back into the wall. Her searing lips making there way up to your ear, “Darling, a sane person would be afraid, for I am your ruination.”
Furthering her emphasis she slid her thigh between your legs, solid, glorious pressure. You were wet the moment you burst into the library, now you were reduced to a filthy puddle. Your desire apparent, and felt through your trousers. Hell, you could smell each other's want halfway across the castle. Appreciatively she moaned, lazily dragging her thumb along your swollen bottom lip.
"My little slut, so wet for me.” You lacked words, opting instead to put on a show; sucking two of her fingers down to their knuckles. Hollowing out your cheeks, eyes smoldering, you were nothing if not eager. With abandon you ground your center into her thigh in time with the tempo your mouth had set. She moaned softly, pumping her fingers, gauging you, plotting future (even more gratifying) uses for that pretty mouth of yours.
Reclaiming her digits, she swallowed your soft whimper as her insatiable mouth found yours again. The hand you were just servicing sending sparks electric along your skin as it snaked down toward your heat. Pulling her mouth away, her eyes were on you. Her hand stilling on your hip to run her fingers along the fabric there. “Say my name.” she commanded, grabbing a handful of your ass.
Panting, you were utterly captivated by her, if she bid you to jump out a fucking window and pull offending glass shards from your flesh with your teeth, you would oblige for her pleasure.
"Alcina,” you husked, the form of her name on your tongue decadent, “please.” The more you said that, the better it felt, dimly in the back of your mind you knew you'd be uttering that supplication with increased frequency and urgency. Your attention snapped back to the sound of metal slicing effortlessly through fabric, your trousers and unders shredded and cast aside. The air cool on your heated flesh. Her gaze wanton and wicked as she eyed her work, your naked core and the disheveled state of the shirt still clinging to your sweat slicked chest...your tunic missing quite a few buttons.
Her fingers tracing along the muscles of your abdomen, your thigh. Lost for a moment in her appraisal of your body. After another moment of regard, your shirt and bra were added to the shredded remnants of your carefully selected outfit. “So strong, so beautiful.”, she purred drinking in the sight of you, skin screaming your desire for her. Her hands were on your breasts, massaging, kneading. Rolling your nipples, pinching. The sounds falling from your lips were utter filth. You had no shame, satiating your lust for her the sole objective of your existence.
"Who do you belong to?” her voice quiet, the question rasped in your ear.
Turning your head to meet her eyes, “You. Only you, always you.” Lips returning to yours, sucking on your tongue. You squirmed, reveling as she moaned into your muscle.
Releasing you, she husked, “Now be a good girl and scream for your Mistress.” Without further warning you were stretched, filled as she set her merciless pace. The sounds of her fucking you, your wetness and her hand slapping into you with each thrust, delirious sin.
"Fuck!...oh, fuck”, you trailed off into a string of incoherent vowels as her thumb found your clit, swirling tight circles against your hardness. Your hands were bunching the fabric at the back of her dress, wishing for the feeling of her skin. Yet not brave (foolish) enough to dare ripping the fine silk of her garment. Your leg wrapped around her waist, open and hungry. Hips thrusting to meet her, taking all she offered. Her lips were back on your throat, licking your sweat with a long swipe of her tongue. Latching on she sucked, groaning, you felt her fangs on you, waiting.
Remembering her manners even whilst fucking you senseless, what a lucky girl you are.
Her hand slowed, drawing your attention to her need, her patience with you wearing thin in her hunger. You hand in her raven hair, attempting to control the breathiness in your voice, “Do it.” You tugged gently at the curls in your fist emphasizing your consent. Her fingers slamming into you again, curling into your front wall, as you felt her fangs piercing into you.
Explosions of light erupted into your vision as you screamed her name again and again (yes, at least half of the castle heard you), your body wracked as waves of pleasure ripped through you. She continued filling you, fucking you, as she greedily swallowed mouthfuls of your blood. The sounds coming from her, perfect in their sin. When she finally slowed her hand, after coaxing unknown numbers of orgasms from you, your vision was swimming.
You were light headed and panting when she released her hold on your throat. Looking at you her eyes were black and your blood dripped down her chin, warm and inviting. Your lips were on her faster than she had the chance to lean into you. To your surprise you were met with her tonguing your blood into your mouth. Groaning you swallowed, the mingled flavors of your life's essence and her making your inner walls clench and your clit throb, want renewed.
She giggled as you licked the blood from her chin. Seeing crimson trailing its way lazily along your clavicle, down your breast sent a shudder through her. Disengaging from you for a moment, you watched her cross the room, making a show of bending low as she retrieved her hat and placed it back in its rightful place. You were still leaning against the wall, eyes glued hungrily to her every move. Taking note of the flush of her skin and the stray droplet of your blood nestled in her cleavage. Almost as an afterthought she tossed her long discarded satin robe at you. Her voice low, “Follow me darling.”
Such a considerate Mistress you have. Such a lucky, lucky wolf you are.
Grinning wildly you were hot on her heels, chuckling to yourself when you realized you still had your boots on.